Envy Challenge - Bree/Kimberly
Title: Mess
Author: giantessmess
Fandom: Desperate Housewives/Melrose Place
Pairing: Bree/Kimberly
Rating: PG
Word count: 250
A/N: For Teh Corruptress.
It’s foolish to speculate. Honestly, you'd rather not know any better. Same face, different neighborhood. It’s bothersome, but not worth exploring. You certainly don’t wish for her depraved little life.
But you do envy the way none of this chaos seems to bother her. Sure, she’s dying, but she’s clearly a few pennies short, and let’s face it - the company she used to keep leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You shudder to think what it left in hers.
“Are you wearing a wig?” You of all people should know what a natural redhead doesn’t look like. But she sighs in that long-suffering way, and you remember. Was it chemo? Death is so disorganized.
“I have to keep a brave face,” she breathes. “For Michael.”
But you’ve stopped listening. “Perhaps I could…” You can’t keep your eyes off how uneven it is in the back. “I have a knack.”
“Look, Bree,” Kimberly grits her teeth. “I’m not after someone to darn my socks.”
“Right,” you nod.
She’s sliding her skirt down. You notice how badly-ironed it is, before the bareness of her legs.
“I just find it hard to concentrate…”
“Well, since I’m secretly planning to end it all,” she kicks her bedroom door shut. “…you’ll have some peace and quiet soon.”
You give her a stern look, before managing a smile that strains your jaw. “Have you thought about what the neighbors will think?”
Kimberly stifles a laugh and begins unbuttoning your blouse. “Have you met my neighbors?”
Author: giantessmess
Fandom: Desperate Housewives/Melrose Place
Pairing: Bree/Kimberly
Rating: PG
Word count: 250
A/N: For Teh Corruptress.
It’s foolish to speculate. Honestly, you'd rather not know any better. Same face, different neighborhood. It’s bothersome, but not worth exploring. You certainly don’t wish for her depraved little life.
But you do envy the way none of this chaos seems to bother her. Sure, she’s dying, but she’s clearly a few pennies short, and let’s face it - the company she used to keep leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You shudder to think what it left in hers.
“Are you wearing a wig?” You of all people should know what a natural redhead doesn’t look like. But she sighs in that long-suffering way, and you remember. Was it chemo? Death is so disorganized.
“I have to keep a brave face,” she breathes. “For Michael.”
But you’ve stopped listening. “Perhaps I could…” You can’t keep your eyes off how uneven it is in the back. “I have a knack.”
“Look, Bree,” Kimberly grits her teeth. “I’m not after someone to darn my socks.”
“Right,” you nod.
She’s sliding her skirt down. You notice how badly-ironed it is, before the bareness of her legs.
“I just find it hard to concentrate…”
“Well, since I’m secretly planning to end it all,” she kicks her bedroom door shut. “…you’ll have some peace and quiet soon.”
You give her a stern look, before managing a smile that strains your jaw. “Have you thought about what the neighbors will think?”
Kimberly stifles a laugh and begins unbuttoning your blouse. “Have you met my neighbors?”